


With My Lost Saints

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blanket Permission, Community: schmoop_bingo, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Poetry, Schmoop, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-11
Updated: 2010-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:03:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean looks at the note he’s waving around, grabs it and laughs.  “I didn’t write this.  Looks like you have a stalker.” Written for the schmoop_bingo prompt: “love letter.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	With My Lost Saints

Sam picks up his laptop to put it away and finds a piece of paper underneath it. He’s pretty sure it hadn’t been there before and wonders if it had been stuck to the bottom of the computer.

Curious, he unfolds it and reads it, then stares. He glares at the bathroom door, where the shower’s running. He has no clue how Dean managed to plant it there without his noticing, but it’s not funny.

When Dean comes out of the bathroom Sam accosts him. “Not funny, dude.”

“What?”

Dean doesn’t sound defensive, only confused. Sam hadn’t thought his brother was that good an actor. “This!” and he thrusts the paper at Dean.

“‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways’?” Dean looks up at him. “Where’d you find this?”

“Underneath my laptop.”

“And you think _I_ put it there?” Dean demands.

“Who else would have?”

“Cas?” Dean suggests uncertainly.

Sam snorts. “Yeah, right. If Cas sent love letters to anyone, it sure as hell wouldn’t be me.”

He considers the look on Dean’s face ample payback, and figures that’s the end of it.

***

But it isn’t. He finds another note, this one in one of his boots. _I gave myself to him / And took himself for pay. / The solemn contract of a life / Was ratified this way,_ He vaguely recognizes it from one of his lit classes.

“Dean, I thought I said this wasn’t funny!”

Dean looks at the note he’s waving around, grabs it and laughs. “I didn’t write this. Looks like you have a stalker.”

Sam groans.

***

A few days and several notes later, Gabriel shows up. He’s been hanging around recently, helping them out. Sam notices him watching him, trying to be subtle about it, and a suspicion forms.

Gabriel had been a Trickster for a long time, and he still pulled pranks. The notes had always appeared when no one else was in the room but Sam, and they’d been in at least three different motel rooms.

Gabriel leaves after a few hours, and the next day Sam finds a note under his pillow.

He’s tempted to throw it away, but he’s morbidly curious.

 _i carry your heart with me(i carry it in  
my heart)_

Sam snorts, finds a pen, and scribbles, _I know this is you, Gabriel, so stop screwing with me,_ and stuffs the note back under his pillow.

***

No more notes appear after that, and Sam figures Gabriel got bored, or else quit when he’d been found out.

But he doesn’t see Gabriel for several weeks either, until he shows up for a hunt, and rather than gloating or making snide remarks he’s completely serious. He doesn’t banter with Sam at all, and Sam kind of misses it. For that matter, Gabriel doesn’t even seem to want to look at him, and he leaves as soon as the monster’s dead.

“What’s with him?” Dean asks, and Sam shrugs.

But when he’s unpacking his bag at the next motel, he finds a ball of crumpled-up paper at the bottom of it. He smooths it out as best he’s able and then stares at it in shock.

_Heart, we will forget him, / You and I, tonight! / You must forget the warmth he gave, /  
I will forget the light. / When you have done pray tell me, / Then I, my thoughts, will dim. / Haste! lest while you’re lagging / I may remember him!_

He’d thought Gabriel was jerking him around. He’d never for a minute thought he might be _serious._ _Love poetry?_ How was Sam supposed to think that was anything other than a joke, especially considering the source?

But this last poem, and the way he acted last time, after Sam wrote the note… _Stop screwing with me…_ “Fuck.”

***

Gabriel shows up a couple of times after that, but he always leaves as soon as possible and avoids Sam like he’s been infected with the Croatoan virus.

Sam wonders why Gabriel isn’t acting like it was just a prank, why he left that last note. He doesn’t seem like the type to make himself vulnerable like that, and his past as a Trickster gives him the perfect excuse.

But Sam can’t pull him aside to talk to him, and doesn’t know how he’s gonna fix this.

When he finally figures out what to do he almost bangs his head on the wall for not thinking of it sooner.

He goes out to a coffee shop, since he doesn’t want Dean looking over his shoulder, and pokes around the web for awhile.

When he finally finds something that will work he copies it down and goes back to the motel.

***

He doesn’t know where to leave the note where Gabriel will see it but Dean won’t notice. He doesn’t even know if Gabriel’s paying attention anymore.

He ends up sticking it underneath the desk lamp with a corner showing and hoping for the best.

It’s gone the next morning, but there are no notes and no Gabriel. Sam wonders if he didn’t believe him.

Gabriel doesn’t show up until a week later.

“I need to talk to you, Winchester. In private.”

Sam swallows, but nods.

***

Rather than going out into the parking lot, Gabriel just snaps them somewhere else.

“What the hell’s this?” he hisses, waving the note Sam wrote.

Sam swallows again. “Uh…a note?”

“But why the hell are you writing me notes?” Gabriel demands.

“I didn’t think you were serious!” Sam blurts out.

Gabriel blinks. “Why not?”

Sam snorts. “Helllooo? Trickster.”

“You have a point.” Gabriel pauses. “And now that you know I am?”

“You read the note, didn’t you?”

Gabriel nods, then moves in and stretches up on his tiptoes to kiss Sam.

Sam kisses him back, and Gabriel’s hand comes up behind his neck, the note fluttering to the ground.

 _Love, if I weep it will not matter,_  
And if you laugh I shall not care;  
Foolish am I to think about it,  
But it is good to feel you there.

__

Love, in my sleep I dreamed of waking,  
White and awful the moonlight reached  
Over the floor, and somewhere, somewhere  
There was a shutter loose- it screeched!

Swung in the wind- and no wind blowing-  
I was afraid and turned to you,  
Put out my hand to you for comfort-  
And you were gone! Cold as the dew,

 _Under my hand the moonlight lay!_  
Love, if you laugh I shall not care,  
But if I weep it will not matter-  
Ah, it is good to feel you there.

Poems used: “How Do I Love Thee?” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “I Gave Myself to Him” by Emily Dickinson, “i carry your heart with me” by e e cummings, “Heart, We Will Forget Him” by Emily Dickinson and “The Dream” by Edna St. Vincent Millay


End file.
